


Bullseye

by EzraTheBlue



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M, Sanzo is a bad boyfriend, gun metaphor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-03-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 14:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6332011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraTheBlue/pseuds/EzraTheBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After losing his temper with all of the others on a rainy night, Sanzo sets out to make things right, one way or another. He's only ever really been good at the one way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bullseye

**Author's Note:**

> March 23 is Minekura-sensei's birthday! I got a request from illegalitygirl and nerdqueenmari on tumblr, based on a Minekura artwork, for three fluffy stories about Sanzo taking each of his boyfriends to the carnival to win them the big prizes at the shooting gallery. The three stories got collapsed into one, fluffy turned into brooding, and this is why I have trouble with requests. Sorry, guys!
> 
> But hey, who doesn't like ikkou datemates? Enjoy, everyone, and Happy Birthday to Sensei!!

**Bullseye**

Draw. Aim. Fire.

_The rain pounded the windows, the oiled paper rattling and the wind screaming at the seams. Sanzo watched in silence as sheets of dark water drained down the walls, sloughing off of the roof in a thick pour. Even with the lights out, he could see it in the dark from the insistent moonlight that forced its way through the roiling clouds. Even with the droning hum of noise that slid under the door, he could hear it drumming the slate tiles on the roof and into his skull. Everything, every single impossibly miniscule thing was grinding into him, sending shivers up his nerves. He'd be certain he went insane if it weren't for the cherry of his cigarette burning where he held it between his fingers, reminding him that time hadn't stopped, that this moment existed, that what he was hearing and seeing was somewhere else, something else. He just couldn't stop himself from reliving it._

_It took every ounce of control he had not to jump when the door opened, when bright light from behind him flooded the floor and cast his shadow black against the grid of windows. "Sanzo?" Hakkai's voice is gentle, but hoarse, and it grates all of Sanzo's nerves at once. He bristled like a cat doused with water, but Hakkai approached nonetheless. "Sanzo, you haven't eaten since breakfast. The others are worried."_

_"Why should you care?" Sanzo's nostrils flared, but he didn't tear his eyes away from the window. He didn't have to look to see the hangdog look haunting Hakkai. Hakkai had probably been moping by his own window until the other two morons goaded him into approaching Sanzo. Hakkai didn't answer, but sighed._

_"We're concerned," he repeated. "It might do you some good to sit with us. We can play Mah Jong. It'll be a distraction."_

_"Did I ask for a distraction?" Sanzo clenched his fist, snapping the lit cigarette in half. It tumbled to the ground, and Hakkai gasped and dove to smother the last embers before they could catch fabric. Sanzo glowered down at him. "Stop trying to fix me because you can't fix yourself."_

_He couldn't see Hakkai's face, hidden by his bowed head. He didn't have to. Hakkai edged back, rose, and left. The door slid shut._

_Silence._

Draw. Aim. Fire.

_The rain poured on, refusing to slow, refusing to settle. Sanzo had taken to pacing, but his footsteps didn't dim the noise. Cigarette butts had formed a high pile in the ashtray, and Sanzo impatiently flicked his lighter over and over as he waited to finish the smoke in his lips so he could start the next one. The second flame met filter, he jabbed it out in the pile and lit one fresh, only to smell a different flavor of tobacco on top of his, then to hear the distinct sound of suede against paper._

_"Hey, brave and fearless leader." Gojyo's voice had a smirk in it. "What happened? You melt or something?"_

_"Fuck off. Go away." Sanzo glared at the door for a second, just making out Gojyo's shadow against the light from the hall._

_"Can't do that, princess. I'm your brave and valiant prince, here to rescue you from your own miserable self."_

_"Why should you care?" Sanzo spun around just to glower at the rain again. "Get the fuck away. I want to be alone."_

_"Aw, but Sanzo-sama, there's so much more fun stuff if you come and sit with us!" Gojyo snickered, and Sanzo seethed, too angry for words. "There's a great roaring fire in the hall, Goku's setting marshmallows on fire, and if you think I look good in the dark, you should see how fucking sexy I am all lit up by firelight." Gojyo chuckled, but Sanzo whipped around and stormed towards the door._

_"You fucking attention whore, you don't get it, do you?" He rapped his hand against the panel of paper nearest Gojyo's head, and drawled, nice and slow so the fucking idiot might get it. "I'm not your mother, you Oedipal fuck. Go show off to someone else."_

_There was a beat. There was the rustle of suede against paper again. There was silence._

Draw. Aim. Fire.

_The door slid open again, breaking the drumming of the rain for an impossible second of hope, but the rain went on and Sanzo didn't even have to guess. "Get the fuck out, monkey."_

_Goku moaned, but instead of doing what he was told, he dragged himself closer. "Aw, come on, Sanzo. I hate seeing you this miserable."_

_"Why do you care?" Sanzo felt steam building in his chest. The rain only sounded louder and louder the closer Goku came._

_"Because it's you." Goku folded his arms and lowered his gaze. "You're making the others unhappy, too. I know rain makes you sad." Sanzo felt those words like an icicle in his chest, because he knew what was coming next and he didn't want to hear it._

_"Goku, you shut the fuck up right now."_

_"We all have things that make us sad, and it's okay. I know how you feel." Goku tried to raise his face to meet Sanzo's eyes again, his hands laced in front of him in plea, the wet whites of his eyes reflecting the dim moonlight. "You just kinda gotta look forward to things getting better. Like, um, coming and eating some soup and warming up. If you come and do that, won't that be nice?" Sanzo couldn't answer, his tongue stiff with his own rage. Goku missed the chill that ran through Sanzo's shoulders and chest, and smiled. "Plus, there's a festival tomorrow! It'll stop raining, and we can all go out together and have a good time! Maybe we can stay, and--"_

_"You fucking twerp." The rage in Sanzo boiled past silence and over his lips. "How the fuck could you possibly understand anything? It's not that simple. Nothing is. The sooner you get that, the sooner you'll grow the fuck up and get the hell out of my hair." He refused to rise to the horrified, desolate expression that had overtaken Goku's smile. "What does a stupid monkey like you know, anyway? Let me spell it out so it doesn't get lost in your rancid fucking brain: I want to be left alone."_

_Sanzo didn't hear Goku's retreating footsteps. He didn't hear the door shut. He only heard the droning rain piercing through every fiber of his heart._

_And silence._

Bang. Bang. Bang.

_The rain died down eventually, and Sanzo had run out of cigarettes somewhere along the line. He wasn't sure if he fell asleep standing up, dazed by his own aching chest, but at some point in the night, he became aware that he needed another cigarette. He stormed out of his room to demand one of the others go out and get him a pack, but stopped short when he heard Goku again:_

“ _... it's just not fair! And even if it is fair, it's not okay!” Goku sounded somewhere between strangled and drowned, straddling the line between livid and despondent. Sanzo peered around the corner into the inn's great room, and found that the three others in his party were the last ones around the fire, gathered near a table with a six pack and an untouched basket of pastries. Goku was slumped on one of the benches, his expression either very angry or utterly distraught. Hakkai was standing, head down, in front of the window, his arms folded tight across his chest, sullen, sulking. Gojyo paced in front of the fire, a beer bottle swinging in his hand._

“ _It ain't fair or okay! He ain't got the right to treat us like that!” He threw his bottle into the fire, and Hakkai sighed from his place and glanced over his shoulder to meet Gojyo's eyes._

“ _Now, now, I'm sure our fearless leader just needs his space.” He turned back to the window, observing the rain as it trailed down the paper. “Space without us in it.” His arms tightened where they were folded, as Gojyo grabbed another beer out of the pack, twisted it open with a lot more effort than he had to, then gestured to Hakkai's head._

“ _Don't you go making excuses for that fucking cumsicle! We were just trying to help, and the sonofabitch pays us back by trying to hit us where it hurts!”_

“ _I just don't get it,” Goku moaned, and Sanzo scowled in his direction as he curled up over himself, his hand sliding out and drifting towards the pastries, then curling back around his own chest. “He calls me a stupid monkey all the time, and he's never meant it, but... this time, I think he really meant it, y'know. That I really am stupid. He says I don't understand, but it's not like I've never had bad things happen and lost people. And even if I don't understand, that doesn't mean I don't care! Why can't I care?”_

“ _Oh, Goku,” Hakkai sighed, and shifted from the window, but was weighed back down towards it. Gojyo, however, sneered._

“ _He ain't worth caring about. Shit, fuck that guy. We did alright without him before. If he doesn't need us, that stupid shit can take care of himself.” Goku mumbled something Sanzo couldn't catch, but Hakkai sighed again, louder._

“ _Gojyo... please...” He leaned his forehead against the window. “It's not worth it.”_

_Gojyo opened his mouth, halting in his pacing, but seemed to notice something. “Ah, jeez.” He put his bottle down. “I'm sorry, babe. Here I am talkin', and you need action.” He crossed the space between them and wrapped his arms around Hakkai's waist. “It's okay. We got each other.” He glanced back to Goku, then motioned with one hand without releasing Hakkai. “C'mere. You, too.”_

_Goku lifted his head like a dog hearing the rustle of a treat bag, and he jumped up and stood next to Gojyo, rocking on his heels but waiting. Gojyo looped one long arm out and corralled Goku into the shared hug, and Sanzo noticed Hakkai turn to kiss Goku's cheek._

_Sanzo's face and chest burned, and he felt a rush of angry nausea as he pivoted on his heel and hurried back towards his room. He no longer wanted the cigarettes. He wanted to not have to watch himself being left out, as if it was his fault they were all such idiots._

Sanzo didn't sleep, not even for a minute, and spent the entire rest of the night watching the rain with his hand on his pistol. He knew he would have shot off at the first shadow he saw, steeped in his anger and jealousy. He didn't even understand why he felt so strongly, either.

The anger, he could understand, because beyond the insults about his behavior, those assholes were leaving him out. He knew they'd started it without him, but they'd been separated. Hakkai and Gojyo, he'd long since assumed those two were fucking, probably since they'd met, or close thereafter. Hakkai would only admit to anything happening between them fairly recently, but Sanzo didn't believe him. Goku, however, had certainly joined in when he'd followed Hazel and they walked a different direction. Goku had admitted, when Sanzo caught the three of them having one of their stupid hug-fests, that Hakkai and Gojyo had roped him in because he needed comfort.

“You should try it sometime,” Goku had said, donning a deliberate pout, the kind meant to draw Sanzo's ire, and he'd narrowed his eyes as if squinting at a distant target. “It's nice, just touching other people and having them touch you back.”

He couldn't lie and say, after spending an evening wrapped up with the others, sharing more than just physical contact, that it wasn't pretty okay. Pretty damn okay, honestly. Maybe even verging on what Goku called “nice.”

Seeing them at it without him, though, that was the exact opposite. That was why he never bothered getting wrapped up in human interaction. It sucks when “nice” goes away.

The jealousy was probably from the same source, he could admit that to himself, except he had never been one to bother with jealousy. He just let it pass into anger. This time, it was lingering.

He didn't like to hold onto things like that. He had to solve it. He tossed and turned for a long time, trying to merely put it from his mind, but when that failed, he knew he had to find the root of the problem and burn the rest from there. This was made difficult when he decided that the root of the problem was him, and the way he'd acted towards them. They should have known by now that he wasn't to be disturbed when the weather was foul, but he could have brushed them off without insulting them. For them, sharing affection, the touches, the embraces, were not merely to meet a need, those moments were based on trust and mutual respect. By insulting them when they were offering comfort, he had rejected that trust and respect. But really, did he even want it?

His gun was better company than any of them. Quiet (most of the time), reliable, and never asked anything of him. However, at the same time, it was cold metal, and it was as much an aspect of himself as his own arm. He loathed it and loved it in the same way he did himself, and if he wasn't enough to stand against the world, then that meant the gun had failed too. He knew he used it as a crutch sometimes, both to ward others off with threats, and firing it as release of frustration and tension, but the others were a crutch just the same. He just didn't need the others... even if they could be useful sometimes.

It took a lot of thinking for him to decide that even if he didn't want them now, he might want them again someday. He also knew that he didn't know what to do about it, either, and he damn sure didn't feel like prodding at it any further now.

The sun was up. He might as well do something with the daylight. Coffee, for starters.

There was coffee in the great hall, thank whatever gods were responsible for that. He could hear the chatter of workmen and, soon, school children on their way past the windows and into the town. He could hear snippets of chatter – hadn't Goku said something about a festival?

A festival would make the idiots happy, anyway. Hakkai loved looking at local crafts, and telling Sanzo about the stories represented in the dioramas of dolls. Gojyo would drink himself stupid and point out all the best drinks and encourage Sanzo to overindulge. Goku would like all the food, and Sanzo would be pulled to buy him every piece of fried crap they were shilling, and be contented.

Four cups of coffee and two newspapers later, Hakkai meandered into the hall to interrupt Sanzo's reverie, utterly reeking of his favored shampoo, but before he could say 'good morning,' Sanzo stood and pushed the folded newspapers towards him. “I don't feel like driving today. Do want you want today, and tell the others they can do the same.” He left, keenly aware of Hakkai watching him go.

Let those bastards have their stupid love-fest on their own. He didn't need it.

Damn if he didn't want it, though.

* * *

Sanzo spent a long time wandering alone, roving the backwater town, watching the signs and booths go up on the main street, but taking none of it in. He roamed, unable to enjoy the sun that had pushed the rain over the horizon, the clear air, anything. It was just space around his head, and he couldn't even manage to fill it with thoughts.

He had hoped the morning sun would give inspiration, but that hadn't helped. He eventually found the second-best thing: distraction.

The midway was open by lunchtime, and Sanzo found himself drawn to the shooting gallery. His pistol felt heavy in his pocket, and he couldn't help but gravitate towards the target game as if caught in its orbit. It wasn't just the temptingly easy targets, but the decorations hung up around the booth were what really caught his gaze. Plush toys. Specifically, a little monkey next to the barker's head. Sanzo approached, eyes narrowed and affixed to the monkey. The barker greeted him, but Sanzo didn't quite hear him. Instead, he pointed right at the monkey.

“If I win, I can have this.”

The barker was taken aback for a moment, but forced a chipper smile. “That's about the size of it, Mr. Priest.” He offered a toy pellet gun that was shaped like a shotgun from behind the counter. “500 yuan for five shots. If you get a total of 500 points, you--”

Sanzo already had the pellet rifle in hand, hoisted it into position, and aimed. Like every day. _Draw. Aim._ The barker yelped and jumped back, as Sanzo scowled down the barrel. It wasn't like his pistol, light and easy, but he instinctively knew how best to bolster its weight against his shoulder, his hand balancing the stock, and put his finger on the trigger.

_Fire._

The barker whipped around, jaw agape, at the hole in the paper, still faintly smoking, as the pellet sat embedded in the corkboard in the back of the booth. “Good grief, sir, that's a bullseye off the bat!”

“Monkey.” Sanzo pointed at it, and the barker laughed, but unhooked the monkey from the board and held it out to Sanzo. Sanzo set the rifle down on the counter and accepted the small plush with both hands.

It was surprisingly soft, for a cheap carnival give-away. His fingers squeezed the body, and without thinking, he pulled it into his chest for a hug. He raised his focus and let his gaze rove around the sparsely-populated road, refusing to look at the plush, as if he were merely performing an objective test. In a way he was, and he determined that it wasn't enough.

His focus landed on the shooting gallery booth again, and not on the bewildered barker, but instead at the row of larger plush toys above him. He frowned, then glanced at the sign: “Trade three small prizes for a large prize!”

“More bullseyes,” he said, pointing, “More prizes.”

“Er, that's about the size of it!” The barker laughed stiffly, then glanced around. “You're, uh, fairly good with that peashooter for a priest, sir.”

Sanzo took up the rifle again. “You have no idea.”

_Draw. Aim._

The idea descended on him like fog, but crept in and held like sunlight. As he took aim, other thoughts crept in, too.

Fire.

_"Sanzo?" Their campfire was warm, but Sanzo sat away from it to enjoy the quiet in the absence of Goku and Gojyo's sing-along. Hakkai had ventured into the chill to hand him a bowl and offer his usual smile. "Just the way you like it, crackers and mayonnaise." Sanzo accepted the stew, examined it, sniffed it, then nodded, and Hakkai nodded in return, then knelt. "You were hurt earlier. May I examine the wound?" Sanzo nodded again, then hiked the bottom of his robe and extended his leg. Hakkai helped him roll his jeans, then examined the rash left by a roll in the gravel. Sanzo flinched when Hakkai first touched it, but he withdrew. "Sorry; may I?"_

_"It's alright. It hurts." He felt a wash of relief at Hakkai's careful contact, not just from the qi, but the odd security he felt at being able to control who touched him and where._

_"I can wrap it, if you'd like. The denim seems to be irritating it."_

_"That's fine." He knew Hakkai would wrap the bandages tight, just the way he liked it._

Fire.

_The aftermath of a fight was always tense, and the tension only dissipated in hours and distance. This time, things had come too close. Hakkai had lost some hair and nearly an ear, and Goku had nearly lost his temper and even more narrowly missed injuring the Jeep. There wasn't enough time between the assault and sundown for him to cool off, so when it came time to stop for a break, he got as far away from the Jeep as he could while still being in sight. He immediately found his lighter, whipped it out, and hit the flint, only to be greeted with absolutely no fire. He swore, until he heard a cough behind him, and turned to see Gojyo offering his Zippo. Without a word, Sanzo lit his smoke off of Gojyo's flame, and the two of them stood together in comfortable silence. The stress left him with each exhale. Without speaking or even looking at him, Gojyo knew what he needed._

_"So, hey." Gojyo kicked at the dirt at their feet, then cast a sly grin in Sanzo's direction. "You're supposed to be our fearless leader, right? So, that means if the Jeep gets busted, we can bill you for repairs, right?"_

_"Please," Sanzo snapped back. "It's more like I'm the ringleader for the world's worst circus, and the animals are poorly trained."_

_"Ooh, a circus? Pretty sure that Merciful lady's the ringleader there, you're just in charge of the freak show."_

_"And you're the star attraction." Gojyo laughed, and Sanzo couldn't help smiling._

Fire.

_Goku, the sound of his voice, his laughter. "Hey, Sanzo, you'll never believe it!" He rushed up to Sanzo in their shared room, holding a magazine. "In the front, they said they got the best dumplings in town! Can we try 'em? Please?"_

_"They say they have the best dumplings everywhere!" Sanzo rolled his eyes, but that didn't break Goku's grin._

_"Only way we're gonna know is to try them all!" Sanzo would have laughed if it weren't entirely reasonable, but instead went for the fan because it was at the same time absurd._

_Goku didn't have to say or do anything. His attitude, his steadiness, his strength were enough. He was the first one to take a hit for him, even if Sanzo never asked him to, the first to defend Sanzo to anyone mocking him, the bright light that had beckoned him towards a better path. It had led him here, after all..._

Bang. Bang. Bang!

The barker had kept up with Sanzo's barrage, replacing the target paper almost as fast as Sanzo could shoot through it. Nine bullets were stuck in the corkboard now, and nine targets were left with holes through the red center. "Nine in a row, sir!" The barker wiped his brow. "That's quite a feat!"

Sanzo grunted his acknowledgment, then pointed. "I need the big monkey, and two others."

Each shot had hit him from the inside, the pellets weighing him down; he was burdened by something heavier than such thoughts. The shotgun was cold in his grip, and his pistol was cold against his thigh. He knew now: he needed to unload.

Hakkai was the easiest to find, because he was in one of the two places Sanzo was sure he could find him: examining a display of canned fruits and vegetables (it was that or the doll display). He waited with his bag of prizes held behind his back until Hakkai noticed him, and spoke before Hakkai could: “Did you sleep at all last night?”

Hakkai didn't answer immediately, his eyebrows knit and lips pursed as he puzzled over this, first taking in Sanzo's flat expression, then his arms hidden behind his back. Sanzo tensed and tried not to roll his eyes. After a minute, Hakkai did reply, “I did, eventually. The rain stopped in the wee hours.”

“Take better care of yourself. The others depend on you.” Hakkai's puzzled expression only deepened when he cocked his head, and Sanzo wasted no time in digging out one of the prizes. “I won this. It reminded me of you.” He held out a large pink pig with shiny black eyes and a spade-shaped snout. Hakkai tentatively accepted it, moving slowly as if he were certain Sanzo would jerk it away, but grasped it by its round, soft arm and held it in front of him. Sanzo felt his chest seize and tighten, and broke eye contact as Hakkai examined it. “The face was... benign.” The tension became too thick, and Sanzo stepped back. “I'm going to find the others.” He turned on his heel, not caring that Hakkai might see into his bag.

“Thank you,” Hakkai called after him, and Sanzo turned his head back just enough to see Hakkai was still examining the pig, perusing its face and smiling.

Sanzo had a few ideas of where Gojyo might have been, but since passing by every alcohol vendor in the place would have been unreasonably time-consuming, and there were pretty women everywhere, but there had to be a spot where they'd gather. He came up with one: a fashion show. Gojyo was loitering outside of a tent of kimonos and clothing made by the women in town, attempting to chat up every girl who walked past him. Sanzo watched him get giggled off a few times before making his approach. Gojyo spotted him, and his easygoing smile sunk into a sardonic smirk.

“Well, well, Sanzo- _sama_ , who knew you knew how to have fun?” He crossed his arms and cocked his chest forward, slouching, looking less charming by the moment. Sanzo snorted.

“I have fun when I feel like it. In the way I feel like it. I wanted to--”

“Pfft, yeah.” Gojyo rolled his eyes and canted his head back. “I ain't in the mood to talk to you. I'm having a good time.”

"What, flirting with women who aren't interested in you and who you're not actually going to go with?”

Gojyo stiffened, then arched forward, his face too close to Sanzo's. “I ain't here for your shit.”

“And I'm not here for yours.” Sanzo started to dig into his bag. “Last night, you were useful to the others. I wanted to--”

“Useful? Like you'd fucking know!” Gojyo tossed his hair back, rolling his eyes harder. He was going to sprain something if he kept that up. “You shut yourself in and shut us out. I took care of the others after you reamed 'em out for being nice to ya, and--”

Sanzo pitched his prize at his face, and Gojyo sputtered but caught it. He stuffed his pride down long enough to say it: “You did good.” He stormed off before Gojyo could react, and missed the way Gojyo held the kappa out at arm's length, its face embroidered in a tiny but precious frown, a plush cucumber stitched into its tiny palm. His temper was wiped by sheer amusement.

“Well, how d'ya like that?”

Goku would be the hardest to find, because there were food vendors everywhere. Some of the offerings were simply unbelievable – fried cheese on a stick? Sanzo felt his heartburn start up at the very thought – and surely, Goku would wheedle enough pocket money out of Hakkai to get anything he wanted, and probably enough of it to give even him a stomachache. He roamed around, still carrying the last prize, the monkey, in the plastic bag, trying to look over every face in the crowd for the one he was looking for so he could unload the last of his burden.

“Sanzo?” He turned when he heard a voice behind him, and found Goku there with a stick of meatbuns. He grinned when Sanzo met his eyes. “Hey! I haven't seen ya all day! Last night, even!” His grin sagged a little, but he took a cautious step closer. “How've ya been? Feeling better?” Sanzo's heart clenched again, stronger, as if Goku had really wrapped his hand around it and squeezed. Goku waited for an answer, hanging on any movement out of Sanzo at all, but Sanzo was lost for words. Goku filled in the space: “I, uh, was kinda worried. You were, y'know, worse than you've been. It's been a long trip, and you probably get sick of all of us, especially when I know how... Look, it's okay. Let's just forget it.” He put back on a brave smile. “It was super nice of you to let us stay today! Thank you!”

Sanzo didn't deserve that. He would have said as much, but that would have just been an insult. “Forget it,” he muttered, half-repeating, half-reassuring, then held the big plush monkey out. “For you.” Goku, bewildered, took the monkey, jaw dropped open, then hugged the monkey to his chest.

“Ah, he's so fluffy and squishy!” He squeezed it as tight as he could without damaging it, then spun around squishing it over and over. “He's so great! Sanzo, how did you--?” He looked back to where Sanzo had been standing, only to discover he was gone.

Sanzo made tracks back for the inn, heading back through the midway. His arms were open, but the cold feeling had remained. It didn't help that the sun was going down by now, that a chill was setting in, and that clouds were starting to cover the sky again. He couldn't say the day had been a full success, but at least he was alone without the burden. Target achieved, he supposed, except...

“Hey, Sanzo!”

“Sanzo!”

“Don't pretend you can't hear us, you're old but you ain't deaf!”

Sanzo grunted and stopped, as all three of them caught up to him. They had surely all had another conversation about him behind his back, but this time, they had come away all smiles. Sanzo faced them, his expression flat, and trying not to empathize with their joy. Gojyo, forward as ever, slapped him on the back.

“You sneaky bastard, you planned this, huh?” He dangled the kappa by its fin, his ear-to-ear grin showing all of his teeth. Sanzo held his ground, but eyed Gojyo with caution in his stance.

“I thought you would appreciate them.”

“We do,” Hakkai answered, and Sanzo noticed the pig's arms slung around his shoulders and tucked partway into his sash to hold it in place. “I'm not sure where they'll fit in the Jeep, but--”

“Who cares!” Goku jumped forward, toe to toe with Sanzo, the monkey held tight to his chest with both hands. “They're so cute! And you got 'em just for us, right? That was so, so nice, Sanzo!” He bounced on his heels, and Sanzo scoffed and swung a step back, dragging on his cigarette.

“I just... thought you'd like them. That's all.” He couldn't bring himself to admit anything more than that, but the three of them traded glances and grins, and then they were all moving towards him. Sanzo shrunk back; he didn't dare fend them off physically, but for fuck's sake, not here...

Luckily, there was intervention. “Hey!” The three of them froze, and Sanzo turned to see the barker from earlier waving from behind his counter. There were less prizes on his rack, but still three big holes from where he'd selected his prizes before. “It's my big winner! Nobody's matched your record all day, Mr. Priest!” Sanzo crossed his arms and bowed his head in imitation of creating a disconnect, but Goku nudged Sanzo's ribs a few times with his elbow.

“Aw, lookit you, all embarrassed!”

“Goku, that's en--”

“Blowing off steam?” Gojyo chuckled, warm and thick, against Sanzo's ear. “Ain't that just like you, always shooting off.”

“Shut up--”

“I'm not surprised,” Hakkai piped in, jostling Sanzo's elbow with his own. “I had assumed the dolls were from something like this. But a record, really?”

“Nine in a row!” The barker beamed. “Just, bang, bang, bang, knocked them all out! In fact!” He ducked down then sprang back up with a Polaroid camera. “How about a picture of the big winner and his prizes?”

Goku tugged Sanzo's arm and planted him in place, then stood at his side, monkey in hand. Gojyo stood between Goku and Hakkai, and planted the kappa right on his head, and Hakkai held his pig out, looking embarrassed but all too pleased. The barker passed Sanzo the pellet rifle again, and Sanzo held it at his hip. It was light. The barker held up the camera, and Sanzo squinted as the barker aimed and shot.

The flashbulb went off. Sanzo closed his eyes.

_Bang._

A bright flash shook Sanzo from a sound sleep, and he woke to find himself sweating and shaking. Night had fallen, the storm had gathered, and somewhere past midnight, it had broken and shattered through Sanzo's security. Sanzo smeared away the cold sweat and stumbled from his bed to the window. Water sloughed off in thick, rolling waves, splattering into deep puddles and soaking through the banners left hanging after the day. He leaned in the sill, feeling the chill through the paper, feeling it seep into his very soul. The damp air and the rattle of the rain stirred his memories again, he was hearing the roar of an ambush, clanking metal, the roar of guns. He was seeing the shadow of his master, he was flailing a hand to his bedside table, seeking and not finding his cigarettes, he was shaking, and he... was warm.

Goku had thrown his arms around Sanzo from the side, and slipped around to hold him from the front, chest to chest, his forehead bowed to his shoulder, and he squeezed tight. He didn't speak, but he grounded his heels and squeezed, pulling Sanzo from within himself and into his embrace. Sanzo tried to jerk back, but there was an hand on his shoulder, and Hakkai was tight against his other side. He squeezed his hand and leaned his head against the side of Sanzo's, his presence close and comfortable, his smile, usually so stiff and blank, warm and real. Before he could shake either of them off, two large, smooth hands slipped around his waist and clasped around his hips, and Gojyo joined the huddle. He craned his neck down to rub his cheek against Sanzo's.

“Can't sleep?” Sanzo stiffened, but between the three of them, he was caught in the dead center of a tight, close, shared embrace. Gojyo, however, ignored that he hadn't responded. “We're here with you.” Hakkai hummed in agreement, then kissed Sanzo's cheek, and Goku held on just that much tighter.

He stayed like that, held tight in their midst, his heart still pounding, but he didn't feel the same pain smoldering on the inside. Instead, he stood between them, supported and contained but never held back, held only in this moment, and he finally relaxed into them. This trust, this embrace, this kind of “nice,” this was release.

_Bullseye._

 


End file.
